


Such A Rush

by ensorcel



Category: Military Wives (2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Character Study, F/F, F/M, Grief/Mourning, Minor Character Death, Miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:28:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 17,358
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27566002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ensorcel/pseuds/ensorcel
Summary: Kate Barkley has lived quite a life. Twenty years later, she's given another chance. Lisa's with her.A character study about love, loss, and the importance of being known. AU where Kate is pregnant after Richard leaves for his fifth tour.
Relationships: Kate Barkley & Lisa Lawson, Kate Barkley/Lisa Lawson, Kate Barkley/Richard Barkley
Comments: 10
Kudos: 11





	Such A Rush

**Author's Note:**

  * For [atlantisairlock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlantisairlock/gifts).



> _ “Do not stand at my grave and weep _
> 
> _ I am not there. I do not sleep. _
> 
> _ I am a thousand winds that blow. _
> 
> _ I am the diamond glints on snow. _
> 
> _ I am the sunlight on ripened grain. _
> 
> _ I am the gentle autumn rain. _
> 
> _ When you awaken in the morning's hush _
> 
> _ I am the swift uplifting rush _
> 
> _ Of quiet birds in circled flight. _
> 
> _ I am the soft stars that shine at night. _
> 
> _ Do not stand at my grave and cry; _
> 
> _ I am not there. I did not die.” _
> 
> —Mary Elizabeth Frye, “Do not Stand at My Grave and Weep”

The first man she ever loved was Richard. She was young—only nineteen, first year of college—and she fell like a pile of rocks for the handsome man with kind eyes who sat in front of her in English Literature 101.

University flew by as she pursued her History degree—with plans on gaining her teaching certification thereafter—and dated various men in between. 

It wasn’t until the summer before grad school where she was working at the university library where she ran into him again. Still young—oh, they were both so, so young—still handsome, with that curly black hair and bright brown eyes and crooked smile and a nose in his books. 

Kate’s heart fluttered again. 

He’d stay after closing hours to help her with the books. They talked about everything, from her plans to become a primary school History teacher to his goals of eventually enlisting to her favourite songs to his favourite books and before she knew it, she was on her first date with Richard. 

Just three months in, Kate became Katie and she had a new, beautiful golden ring on her fourth finger and Richard on her arm and she thought she’d burst of happiness—her first month of teaching certification, about to be married in less than a year and she was beginning to think about what their children would look like. 

Everything she had dreamt about. 

She wondered if this was what Cinderella felt like. (She didn’t know everything was just beginning.) 

The wedding was a small affair, with her father walking her down the aisle and Richard’s parents at the front and a couple of her university friends because they didn’t have a lot of money and all Kate could think about was how she was getting married to the man of her dreams and she didn’t particularly care about the fact that her dress was rented or that the wedding was close to last-minute. 

A priest married them in a church where the day was bright but Kate’s smile was brighter and the future was a long, beautiful road ahead of them. 

“Do you, Richard, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?”

Kate smiled so hard it hurt. “I do.” 

“And do you, Kate, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” 

Richard’s eyes were bright. 

“I do.” 

“I now declare you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”

There weren’t fireworks, but there might have well been. 

Kate was hired at a local primary school as a History teacher and Richard was almost finished with training when she brought up the topic with him. 

“Richard,” she began, twisting her fingers and playing with her ring. “I think we should try for children.” 

He looked up from his newspaper, slowly folding it aside. 

“Okay,” he gently replied, grabbing her hand and pulling her closer. 

“Your training is almost finished, which means we can move into the base soon, and hopefully your first deployment won’t be—” 

Richard cut her off with a kiss. She wrapped her arms around his neck, bringing him impossibly closer. 

“I love you, Katie,” he said quietly. “I can’t wait to meet our children.”

Kate smiled, closing her eyes. 

“I love you too,” she replied as they stood together in the dim light of their small kitchen, nearly pushed up against the stove. “I want a family with you.” 

Richard smiled and just pulled her into the bedroom. 

They moved onto the base around two weeks later. The house was much nicer than the one that Kate’s small teacher’s salary could afford before and all Kate could think about was how lovely the second bedroom would look as a nursery. 

There was a small yard in front and a decently-sized backyard with a nice lawn and with some work, they could definitely turn it into something lovely. All Kate could think about was the pattering of small feet throughout the home and how their children would have Richard’s eyes and maybe her hair and hopefully, his height. 

She kissed him hard when they moved in and told him that she loved him every single night. (He had yet to be deployed and Kate, as unrealistic as it was, prayed that he never would. There was no world to her where Richard wasn’t alive. She shuddered at the thought.)

The base was close to the school—thank God—and she would come home at promptly four every evening, either busy with marking or clubs for the students afterwards. Kate loved her job, loved her husband, loved her life. 

She tracked her cycle religiously and the first one she missed she immediately raced to the nearest pharmacy after work, almost running through the aisles to find a test. Richard wasn’t home yet—still on duty—and she was in the bathroom praying for the two lines to show up. 

They did and if Kate thought she was happy on her wedding day, it was nothing compared to this. She cleaned the stick off and placed it on the counter in a small wrapped box, waiting for Richard to come home.

She placed a hand on her stomach. Pregnant.  _ Her _ , a mother. Richard, a  _ father _ . 

The door rang open at six and Kate was humming in the kitchen, as the scent of a freshly-made dinner wafted through the house. 

“Evening, darling,” he said, kissing her on the cheek as she stirred at the pot. 

“How was your day, dear?” she asked, as she ladled the soup into two bowls. 

“Good, good, it seems that they’re training us harder each day,” he replied, setting his bag onto floor beside the couch and sat down at the dinner table. “But when I come home to a beautiful wife and an even better dinner—”

Kate just swatted him on the head, laughing with him. 

“Eat, you’re hungry,” she said as she set dinner in front of him. 

“Our anniversary is in March, by the way, and my birthday isn’t until August,” Richard mentioned. Kate looked at him surprised. 

“Yes, I remember,” Kate started slowly, until she realised she’d left the wrapped box on the counter. Oh. “Crap—you weren’t supposed to see that until later!” 

Richard just looked at her. And looked at her. And looked at her. 

“Are you—” 

Kate shoved the box at him, smiling so hard it hurt. She thought her heart would burst. He carefully unwrapped the gift, gently placing the ribbon aside and taking the thin stick out. 

“Don’t worry, I washed it—” Kate began, but his lips were on hers and he was kissing her hard and he tasted like the tomato soup she’d just made and a hint of mint and a lot of bright, bright future. His hand wandered down to her still-flat stomach, holding her tight, burying her face into his shoulder. 

“Oh Katie,” he whispered. “Oh Katie, oh Katie, oh Katie.” 

She smiled, her eyes burning up.

“I love you,” he said, lifting her up onto the counter. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Kate didn’t have a chance to respond as he kissed her and kissed her and kissed her. 

She was twelve weeks in with names picked out and very, slightly showing when it happened. 

It was a Sunday and they’d just gotten back from church, Richard arm in arm as they walked through the streets from the local base cathedral. It was a sunny, sunny day. Rather warm. A lovely day, really. 

She was vacuuming the living room when a stabbing pain in her abdomen caused her to double over, clutching her stomach. 

She froze. The vacuum dropped. The room was so, so cold. She knew. She  _ knew _ . (They hadn’t even gotten to their first ultrasound.)

“Richard!” she remembered calling. “Richard!” 

A warm rush soaked through her underwear and Kate knew. 

Richard scrambled into the room, face white when he saw her. 

“Katie—”

“Call 999!” she shouted, clutching her stomach as she faltered to the ground. Richard caught her before she hit the floor. His arms were warm. He was so warm. 

“It’s going to be okay,” he whispered. “It’s going to be okay,” he whispered like a mantra. “Katie, I love you, I love you—”

“I’m so sorry,” she said. Richard ran a hand through her hair. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s going to be okay, Katie,” he replied. “Please don’t be sorry.” 

All she remembered was the warmth and the cold and Richard’s voice in her ears. 

“Katie?” 

Kate blinked her eyes open to bright lights and Richard gripping her hand. 

“Oh God, thank God you’re awake,” Richard breathed, bringing up her hand to his lips and kissing it. “Thank God, thank God,  _ thank God _ ,” he repeated. Kate smiled a little. 

“Never thought that I’d be the one in hospital and you at my bedside,” she joked. Richard gave a watery laugh. 

“I thought I lost you, Katie,” he whispered, staring at her with bright eyes and so much love that she thought she would crumble. 

“I’m sorry,” she replied. Richard gripped her hand harder. 

“Oh Katie,” he said, closing his eyes. “I’m just so glad you’re alive.” 

“I lost our little boy,” she choked out. “I lost our little boy,” she sobbed. 

She felt Richard climb into the bed and wrap his arms around her, rocking her. Her hand clamped down over her mouth. 

“I lost our little boy,” she cried. “I’m so sorry.”

Richard just held her and kissed her forehead. 

“We were going to be a family,” she whispered. “A family.”

She fell asleep in Richard’s arms.

Kate went back to work four days afterwards. The house was too quiet and the second room too empty. She requested a transfer to the local high school when she was on recess-duty for her third grade class. 

One day, she came home to soft music playing through the house and the smell of pork roast in the air. She slowly walked to the kitchen, putting her coat and scarf away only to find Richard in that ridiculous apron he’d bought her when they first married and a candlelit dinner with a bottle of wine on the counter. 

“Hello,” she said quietly, trying not to scare him as he danced awkwardly to the melody. She tried not to laugh. He jumped, turning around with a big smile on his face. 

“Welcome back!” he said jovially. “How was your day?”

“Fine,” she replied, sitting down carefully. “Did you make this?” 

Richard nodded proudly and she was reminded of the kind boy she fell in love with all those years ago. His eyes were bright in the candlelight. Kate grabbed his hand and squeezed it. 

“Thank you darling,” she said, tucking in. “Are you going to open that bottle or do I have to do everything?” she joked, laughing a little. He joined her and their split-second joy echoed throughout the house. 

“I shall, milady,” he teased, bowing slightly and taking off the apron. “Everything I do I do for you.” 

Kate smiled. Her heart fluttered. 

Then, as she watched Richard pour the wine and bring the rest of the plates, as he almost dropped a dish, she realised that everything was going to be okay. They were going to be okay. Maybe not now, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not even next month, but they were going to be okay. 

Because even if she had lost their baby, their child, she still had Richard. Still had Richard. 

She pulled him for a kiss and told him over and over again that she loved him. Loved him, loved him, loved him. 

“Do you want to try again?” Kate whispered one night, as she laid in Richard’s arms as the streetlight streamed in through their bedroom window. It was cold outside but she was warm inside their home, the home that they’d eventually make for their family. Family. 

Richard looked down at her.

“I spoke to my doctor—she said that it’d be okay now,” Kate added. Richard frowned. 

“You went to the doctor without me?” he asked, concerned. Kate chuckled. 

“Just gave her a call,” she replied. “It’s been a month.” 

Richard still looked unconvinced. “Are you sure? Are you sure  _ you’re _ okay?” 

“I have you,” was all Kate said as she kissed him and threw away the covers. 

Richard was deployed later that week. 

“I’ll be back before you know it,” he whispered in her ear. “I love you.” 

Kate tried to smile. Her eyes were burning. 

“Six months is a long time,” she replied, holding onto him tightly. 

“Back before you know it,” he repeated with a smile—the smile that she had fallen in love with all the way back in English Literature 101. “I love you,” he whispered against her lips. “Please don’t forget.” 

“How could I?” she replied and kissed him like it was the las—

No. She couldn’t think like that. She kissed him like he was coming back the next day and held him the tightest she’d ever had. 

“I love you,” she said. Richard smiled. “I love you!” she called again as he walked down the path. She watched him until he disappeared out of view. 

Kate was in the middle of teaching her tenth grade History class when she realised. She ended her lesson early and raced to the bathroom with the pregnancy test that she now always kept in her bag. 

Part of her prayed for it. The other part prayed it’d be a single line. 

The staff bathroom was cold and smelt a little bad. When the two, small red lines showed up, she wasn't sure to be relieved or not. 

Richard was just deployed. Not a month ago, they'd just lost their baby. 

Kate muffled a cry with her hand. 

She immediately booked an appointment with her doctor afterwards and headed back to class as if nothing had happened. Kept on teaching how Egypt flourished as a civilization and how their leaders were some of the most revolutionary and famous and how it was important to learn history to understand their future and all Kate could think about was her baby, yes her baby and how Richard wasn't home and  _ Richard wasn't home _ —

She scrambled back to an empty house and an even emptier second bedroom. (They had never decided to decorate it, always promising to do so when the baby came.)

Like usual, she made dinner and some tea like Richard was going to come home until she realised that he wasn't. 

That she was going to deal with the majority of this pregnancy alone. A hand rested on her stomach. She didn't know if she could.  _ She didn't know if she could.  _

The house was so, so silent. She put on some music just for the sake of it and tried to think of Richard in Afghanistan and if he liked his fellow soldiers and if he was thinking of her. 

When she went to check the mailbox, there was an aerogramme and Kate just smiled, clutching it to her chest. She held it to her stomach too, as if telling her child that  _ yes, that's your father, baby, that's from your father and he's going to love you so much when he comes back and he loves us so much. _

Richard's words repeated throughout her head for the rest of the evening and she fell asleep with a hand on her stomach and Richard's letter in the other. 

The next time it happened, she was just four weeks in—not even showing, barely more than a clump of cells—and she had no name this time, no gender, no Richard. 

It was, she supposed, gentler this time. As if her body was telling her sorry for the loss. A little like a heavy period. 

But she knew either way. Knew that it was happening, felt the life slipping out of her. There was blood, she knew, because the red never left her vision. But it wasn't as much as last time and her stomach didn't hurt as much. Perhaps it was to make up for the fact that Richard was halfway across the fucking world and Kate was in the bathroom all by herself in a silence-ridden home. 

She drove herself to the hospital because there really was no need to call 999 and she felt fine, that it was only four weeks, that it wasn't like last time. 

No need to overreact. No need to freak out. Calm, collected, cool. 

All she could think about was how Richard wasn't here and she had just lost their second child and she was driving  _ herself _ to the fucking hospital and she wasn't sure if Richard was even coming home. 

There were tears in her eyes but she ignored them. Wiped them away with her sleeve and tried not to think about how Richard wouldn't be back for another five months. 

The nurse looked at her with pity and surprise when she explained her situation and asked if she had anyone else to call. Kate shook her head. Her mouth was numb. 

Her doctor was called in and she spoke to Kate in a tone that made Kate want to slap her and she wanted to scream that no, there was no one else, and no, her husband was enlisted, and no, she didn't need fucking help to go home. 

The next evening, she went out to the nearest bar and drank as much as her money would allow. Her vision blurred and her hands shook and she woke up in her car the next morning with no idea how she got there but with a ticket on her windshield and an empty house to go home to. 

Once she got into the bathroom, she got a good look at herself in the mirror. Still young, she realised. Still young. Still had time. A hand went to her stomach. 

Kate felt sick. She wanted to throw up. (And how much she wished it was for that reason.) 

_ I miss you, I miss you, I miss you. _

A hand clamped over her mouth as she sobbed.  _ Please come home.  _

She couldn't lose a husband and a child. 

She went to work the next day like nothing had happened and continued with her lecture on ancient Greece and old poetry and how interesting it was to see how little humanity has really changed. She didn't think of Richard or her baby or the fact that it was always dark when she went home. 

Richard's aerogrammes kept on coming and she kept on writing back, mentioning over and over again how much she loved him even though she wasn't sure how true it was. 

She planted two new saplings in the backyard, nestled beside the roses and watched them grow when her children did not. 

Later, she eventually got used to his cold side of the bed and how she didn't always need to have dinner ready by six. 

When he came back five months after, she never told him. 

"We should try again," Richard mentioned, around two weeks after he came back. 

"Okay," Kate replied. "Okay." 

"I don't want to keep on leaving you alone," he whispered, pulling her close. Kate looked up at him, realising how much he'd aged in those six months away. She wondered if he could see it on her as well. 

"I'm okay," she lied. 

"I love you, Katie," he replied. "Loved you ever since I set my eyes on you." 

Kate smiled, burying her face into his shoulder. 

“I love you too," she whispered as he led her into their room. 

"I'm so sorry," she whispered when he fell asleep. "I'm so sorry." 

She missed her period again and she tried not to get her hopes up. Stopped carrying pregnancy tests in her bag so she had to ask Richard to run out to buy one for her. The smile on his face the best thing she'd seen in the last year. 

_ I love you, I love you, I love you.  _

Would never stop saying it in case it would be the last time. 

"You okay?" Richard asked through the bathroom door. Kate almost laughed at his eagerness. It was endearing. Sweet to see that even after all this time, not much had really changed from that kind boy who helped her clean up the library after it closed. 

"Just fine, darling—" 

She dropped the stick. It clattered on the bathroom floor. 

"Katie?" Richard called again. She couldn't say anything. The two lines were staring up at her. "Katie?" 

Richard burst into the bathroom, clearly worried out of his mind until Kate saw him notice the test on the floor. He looked at her for confirmation. Kate thought she was going to cry. 

"Positive?" he asked, timidly. Kate smiled so hard her cheeks were going to burst. She nodded. Richard grabbed her hands and kissed her, while she was still on the toilet, while the stick was still on the floor, while even though this was their third pregnancy—

"I love you," he said, kneeling on the cold tile. "I love you so much." 

Kate stared him straight in the eye. "I love you too."

"We're going to be great parents," he whispered. He sounded so sure that Kate wanted to cry into his lap. 

"Yes," she whispered back. "We are."

Richard held her hand throughout the whole process. Sometimes literally. Sometimes  _ too _ literally. 

"Richard, we just found out," she said as he tried to help her down the stairs. Richard just shushed her and swept her into his arms, carrying her down. 

"Richard!" 

"I think you're heavier now," he joked, setting her down. Kate slapped him on the shoulder, glaring. "Hey!" 

"You're in the damn military. Show some backbone," Kate teased, heading to the door and grabbing their keys. Richard just laughed and raced to the car to open the door for her. Kate just laughed. It was a wonderful day out. The start of a wonderful future. (Kate had a good feeling about this one.)

Richard held her hand while they drove to the hospital for confirmation and he held her hand as they drew her blood and he held her hand as the doctor came in. 

"Congratulations, Mr. and Mrs. Barkley," Dr. Balaji said with a smile. "You're pregnant! You're around six weeks in." 

"Since you've had two miscarriages before this, we'll be monitoring this pregnancy carefully," her doctor continued, looking down at her clipboard. Kate froze. 

Richard looked at her. 

"Could, could you give us a minute, Dr. Balaji?" Kate asked politely. The doctor nodded, closing the door quietly behind her. 

"Katie," Richard began slowly, avoiding her eyes but still holding her hand. 

"Richard, I'm so sorry," she gasped out, clutching onto him tightly. Her eyes were burning. "I'm so so sorry." 

"Why didn't you tell me?" 

Kate was cold. "I didn't know how." 

Richard was very still. 

"Richard?" Kate asked quietly. His eyes were closed. 

"I wasn't there with you," he whispered. "I wasn't  _ fucking _ there with you." 

"Richard," Kate said, pulling him closer. "I'm okay. It was like a heavy period," she tried to joke. Richard looked at her with sad eyes. 

"How, how far along?" he stammered out. "Our baby," he choked. 

"Four weeks," she replied, wrapping her arms around him. Richard closed his eyes again. His hand went to her stomach. It was warm. 

"Katie I—" he cried. She held him tightly. Held him like he should've held her those months ago. 

When the doctor came back with new rules and more appointments, Richard gripped her hand in a way he never had before and whispered  _ I love you _ all the way home. 

They made it to the first ultrasound. 

It's the furthest they've gotten and Kate prayed every single night that God would please, please, let them be a family. 

Kate clutched Richard's hand when the grainy figure showed up on the ultrasound, the little creature, their child, their baby, moving around in her stomach, as Richard watched in shock as their baby's heartbeat echoed throughout the room. 

Kate was crying and Richard was here and oh, how she hoped to please, please,  _ please let this be their child.  _

"I love you," he whispered in her ear. "I love you, I love you, I love you."

Kate couldn't stop staring at the screen. 

"I—"

"I know," he said as they watched together. "I know." 

The pregnancy was nowhere near easy. There were days Kate wished she wasn't even pregnant to begin with and those were also the days she wanted to kick herself in the face.

They hadn't decided on any names and hadn't decorated the second bedroom. Kate told herself she'd do it once they got the second ultrasound, but she also knew that she wouldn't. (Too risky. Couldn't get attached.) 

She was lying. Her hand was always on her stomach and all she could think about was a young boy or girl running through the hallways and ever since the morning sickness ended, she was always playing some kind of music on the radio and Richard joked that he knew what mood she was in by what was flying through the house. 

She kept on teaching—though she wasn't requesting for maternity leave until they were sure and came home more often than not to a steaming dinner and a smiling Richard and a happy, happy life. 

The second ultrasound rolled around faster than expected and once again, Richard was holding onto her hand when a clearer—or somewhat clearer—image showed up on the screen, slightly moving, the heartbeat once again pounding through the room while the doctor pointed out ten fingers and ten toes.

“That’s our baby,” Kate whispered, in awe. 

“Would you like to know the gender?” the doctor asked gently. Richard looked at Kate. She nodded. 

“Yes,” Richard said. The doctor smiled. 

“Congratulations, you two are expecting a very healthy boy,” Dr. Balaji said and Kate immediately reached for Richard, not realising that he was already holding her hand. 

“A boy,” she whispered. “A baby boy.” 

“We’re having a son,” Richard said. “A son.” 

Kate sobbed into his shoulder. 

They were having a boy.  _ They were having a boy.  _

Kate’s eyes were bright on the whole ride home and she kissed Richard in the doorway like they were twenty-two again with the road wide ahead of them and the entire world in their hands.

“A son,” she whispered when they were in bed and Richard’s hand was on her stomach. Her heart was going to burst. 

“What about a name?” Richard suggested. Kate tensed up a little. “We don’t have to,” he followed up, squeezing her arm. 

“No, no, you’re right, we should be more prepared,” she replied quietly. “Any ideas?”

Kate thought about the names they had planned for their first baby.  _ Charles. Jacob. Annie. Lucy.  _

“I’ve always like Richard,” Richard joked. Kate punched him lightly in the chest. 

“I’m not naming our son a name with the shortened form ‘Dick’,” Kate said primly. Richard just laughed and Kate thought it was the most brilliant sound in the world. 

“I’ve always like James,” Richard said, looking at the ceiling. Kate followed his gaze. 

“James,” Kate repeated, letting the name roll off her tongue. “I like that.” 

Richard smiled and pulled the covers over. 

Kate’s water broke two weeks before her due date and thankfully—though that was maybe the only thing she was thankful about that day—she was at home and Richard was at home and they were speeding down the road to the nearest hospital, with Kate gripping Richard’s hand in pain as the contractions became worse and worse. 

“Richard—” Kate cried, holding onto him for dear life. 

“I’m driving as fast as I can!” he exclaimed, letting go and placing another hand on the wheel. Kate panted, already exhausted. 

Soon, but not soon enough, she was rushed into the hospital as the pain became unbearable. Richard was gone and all of a sudden she was back to those six miserable months when he was on the other fucking side of the world and she was alone in the bathroom with nothing but blood and—

Kate heard herself scream but she wasn’t sure because it didn’t sound anything like her. She thought she heard Richard somewhere in the background but all the lights and the noise and the pain, the  _ pain _ , overshadowed and she heard the doctors yelling and it felt like her abdomen was on fire and Kate simply couldn’t hold on. 

Remembered her first miscarriage with all the blood and the second with less. Remembered how Richard was there and then he wasn’t and then he was again. That she was carrying their son and oh God, please let him live, please, please, please, she pleaded, over and over,  _ please, let my son live.  _

That was all she remembered before it went black. 

The entire lower half of her body was numb when she woke up. She couldn’t feel her legs. 

“Katie?” a small voice whispered. “Oh God, Katie.”

She slowly reached out, grabbing Richard’s hand. 

“The baby, our son, is he—” she gasped. She had to know. 

“You were magnificent,” Richard whispered. “He’s in the nursery right now. You did so well, Katie. I’m so proud.”

Kate kept her eyes closed but grasped Richard’s hand firmer. “I want to see him.”

“Of course,” Richard replied. “I’ll call a nurse.” 

“I love you,” she said as she opened her eyes. Richard looked at her softly. 

“I was so worried,” he whispered, cupping her face. “I’m so, so proud of you.” 

Kate closed her eyes again, leaning into his touch. 

The door of their small room swung open and a kind nurse pushed in a carriage. Kate immediately opened her eyes and gasped. Her son.  _ Her son.  _

The nurse carefully lifted the infant out, gently placing him in Kate’s arms and—

Kate carefully pushed the blanket aside, brushing his small, incredibly small, squished, pink face. Suddenly, the entire world fell away. It was just her and her son and he was the most beautiful person she had ever seen and he was the most brilliant thing she had ever seen and she didn’t think she could love anyone like this—not even Richard, didn’t think she ever could love anyone like this, didn’t think that there was anything she wouldn’t do for her son. 

“Hi baby,” she whispered, stroking his soft cheek. “Hello James.”

She looked up and Richard was watching them with the most love she’d ever seen in his eyes and the gentlest smile on his face. 

“Hi James,” he whispered, holding onto Kate’s hand once again. “That’s Mummy and I’m Papa.” 

Kate didn’t think her smile would ever leave. She didn’t think it could. 

James was a loud infant.  _ Very _ loud. Kate had to reminder herself how much of a miracle he was when she clambered out of bed to a screaming James at three in the morning. Richard grumbled beside her. 

“I’ve got it,” she muttered, patting Richard on the back as he fell back asleep. 

“Hey baby,” she whispered as she stumbled over to the crib—the second bedroom was decorated but Kate couldn’t bear to leave him for even a little—and gently picked him up, shushing him softly. “Mummy’s here.” 

"I'm here," she said, rocking him back and forth as his crying eventually subsided. "You're my little miracle." 

_ My little miracle.  _

She tiredly fell back into bed, with Richard's snores lulling her to sleep and the fact that her son,  _ her son _ , was sleeping just a couple of meters away and Kate thought about taking James to see the little trees in their backyard, telling him that they were his siblings, that she loved him more than anything in the world, that there was nothing she wouldn't do for him. 

Richard was deployed again a couple weeks after James' birth. She told herself it didn't hurt as much as this time, because she had James and he was coming home—there was no other option, but when she kissed him goodbye and pried him from James' crib something in her chest hurt and it wasn't because of post-pregnancy heartburn. 

Kate couldn't stay away from James. Both out of his necessity and her's. She was with James all the time—maternity leave was pretty good at the school she'd worked at and she had a whole year off. A whole year with James. Half a year with Richard. 

She showed him everything—at first it was just their front yard and their little backyard with two small trees and roses. The trees were taller than James and while her heart still hurt when she looked at them, she was always reminded of James and his bright brown eyes that looked exactly like Richard's and how he would always giggle when she made funny faces at him. 

Her letters were always about James. James this, James that, about how he was starting to crawl and about how his first word was "Ma" and how much she missed Richard and wanted him to come home and about how much James looked like him with his small tuffs of hair growing into what was definitely going to be a mess of curls like Richard's was when they were in university. 

Eventually, she ventured beyond their small house on the outskirts of the base and met some of the other women; other women like her who were new mothers, new wives, with husbands on the other side of the world as they battled their own hardships and sorrows. 

Sadie was a little younger than Kate but she was pregnant with her first child while her husband, David, was also in Richard's deployment and all Kate noticed was how her blonde hair glinted in the sunlight and how she glowed when she talked about her pregnancy. 

"I couldn't imagine," Kate began, talking to Sadie one afternoon with James in the pram. "Going through my pregnancy without Richard." 

Except she could, she could,  _ she could _ , but she couldn't tell Sadie that. 

Sadie just laughed a little and shrugged. "What can you do? At least he'll have a little boy or girl to come home to," she said. She sounded a little sad. Kate wanted to reach out and grab her hand, tell her that everything was going to be okay, that everything was going to work out, but she couldn't. 

"You're going to be a great mum," was all she said because that was all she had to offer. 

The next day, Sadie woke up to two impeccably dressed men in front of her door and their empty-handed condolences and all Kate could think about was please, please,  _ please don't let that be me. Please let James have his father come home.  _

Sadie moved out a month after and Kate never spoke to her again. 

Richard came home a month later to a beaming Kate and a shrieking James. She pulled him in tight and kissed him hard and whispered in his ear to never leave her again, to never leave them again, that James needed a father as much as he needed a mother and Richard just looked at her sadly and told her he loved her. 

"What have you been up to since I've been gone?" he asked a giggling James as he picked him up and flew him through the air. Kate beamed as she watched them. "Have you missed Papa?" 

"We have," Kate said quietly, placing a kiss on his cheek. "We have." 

Richard, to his credit, eventually noticed the trees—they were only saplings before, now they had grown much, much taller—and grabbed Kate's hand tightly. "You're magnificent," he whispered in her ear as they sat in the grass as James crawled around them, babbling nonsense. Kate felt her cheeks go hot. 

"I'm sorry I wasn't here," he said and she wasn't sure if he meant for James or for the second miscarriage or just in general and all she did was lean into his embrace and enjoy the sun shining on their faces. 

"You've made me the happiest person on this planet," she eventually said. 

"What am I supposed to say to that?" Richard joked, pulling her closer. Kate glared. 

"You're supposed to say it back," she teased, hitting him on the shoulder. 

"You're the reason I want to come home," Richard whispered and Kate tensed. 

"Please don't say that," she replied, watching as James pulled out the grass. Richard stared at her. 

"It's true," was all he said before Kate rushed to grab James from shoving dirt into his mouth. 

Kate eventually went back to work—though it was much more painful leaving James with Richard or a nanny than expected. While teaching through her classes, all she could think about was James and whether or not he had eaten lunch and if he missed her like she missed him and if Richard was making him smile like she did. 

James—now Jamie with that stupid nickname Richard seemed to like—shot up like a tree and before they knew it, they were celebrating his first birthday, then his second, and then Richard was on his third tour and Katie and Jamie became Kate and James for another six months. 

It was, she supposed, a bit easier now. She knew what she was doing—she took another semester off from teaching and spent all her days with Jamie—no,  _ James _ , and took him out to playgrounds and parks and even one day, she drove all the way out to the beach just so he could see the lovely sea and play in the water.

She wished Richard was here but as she watched Jamie patter around in the shores, in his little floaters and swim trunks and his messy hair that looked so much like Richard she realised that on the chance that Richard never came home, that two men showed up on her doorstep in black suits and a letter, that they would be okay. That Jamie would be okay. That they could be a family with just the two of them. 

She kept a small jar of sweets for Jamie—he could have one everyday Richard was gone on tour, and by the time it was gone, it’d mean Papa was home. Her heart burst everytime asked for one, holding him on her thigh, bouncing him lightly. 

“Don’t be sad, Mummy,” Jamie said, tapping her cheek. “I love you,” he sang. Kate laughed. “Laugh again,” he bubbled, smiling. Kate did. She did.

When Richard came back he ran for Jamie's room as Kate chuckled and she kissed him sweetly in the doorway and held him closely. 

"I've been promoted," Richard said quietly. Kate stepped back, startled. 

"That's amazing, darling!" she exclaimed, smiling at him. Richard wrapped his arms around her. 

"It means we'll need to move," he explained further, looking out the window into their small backyard. Kate knew what he was thinking. Knew what he was asking. 

"I go where you go," she replied, even though it wasn't true, even though it wasn't possible, even though she didn't want to. 

They moved into Flitcroft two weeks later and Kate left behind her two trees and the small life she'd made in their home and transferred where she worked. Jamie squealed at the bigger backyard and the small park down the street and Kate smiled as she watched Richard chase him down the driveway. 

Richard made dinner that night and when they were getting ready for bed, his eyes were bright and smile wide. 

"Do you want another?" Richard asked, coming up behind her as she brushed her hair in the mirror, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on her shoulder. Kate looked at him. 

"Another baby?" 

"No, another dog," he joked. "Yes, another baby. A friend for Jamie?" 

"His name is  _ James _ ," Kate said even though it'd be no use. "I'd like that," she replied. 

He kissed her softly that night and she kissed him back and all she could think about was maybe a little girl with Richard's eyes and hopefully her hair and a laugh that Jamie would love. 

She was throwing up in the toilet three weeks later while Jamie was playing in the living room and she  _ knew _ . There were pregnancy tests in the medicine cabinet because Richard didn't want Kate to leave Jamie on his own if she needed to run out and this was the first time she thought maybe, just maybe, he wanted this a little more than she did. 

The two red lines popped up again and Kate felt a little sinking feeling in her chest—what if she couldn't love this child like Jamie? Jamie filled her whole heart; was there even enough room for another? 

Richard kissed her hard when she told him and they decided not to tell Jamie until after the first ultrasound and Kate hated that they had to be careful, that she was older, that she'd already lost two, that Jamie should've been their third child, that they should've had a much bigger family.

They made it to the first ultrasound and as their baby’s heartbeat echoed throughout the room, Kate realised that yes, she could love this child as much as she loved Jamie, that there was enough room in her heart and as Richard clasped her hand in his, all she could think about was how loved she was and how lucky she was—

It happened twenty weeks in. 

They were at the second ultrasound with the third bedroom already decorated and names already picked. Harry for a boy, Anne for a girl. Kate held Richard’s hand tightly all the way to the hospital while they left Jamie with the babysitter for the afternoon. 

The screen was still and the room was quiet and their doctor was silent. There was no heartbeat. 

Kate was so, so cold. Richard was crying. It’d been so long since she’d seen him cry she wasn’t sure if it was possible. 

The doctor’s words glazed through her ears and she didn’t notice anything except for the fact that the screen wasn’t moving and it was so, so silent and she was taken into another room and then the pain hit—

The pain from when was with Jamie, the one like a stab to her abdomen, the one that she hadn’t felt in years—

Richard was sobbing. Kate was cold. She wondered if Richard could feel it.

Very, very cold. 

They didn’t even know the gender. 

Didn’t know if they’d lost little Harry or Anne. 

Suddenly, she was cradling the small, lifeless body of her baby, her  _ child _ and Richard was crying and she didn’t feel anything but cold, cold, cold, that she wasn’t taking home a younger sibling for Jamie, that she had failed,  _ again and again and again _ . 

She was in bed for days afterwards. 

Barely saw Jamie since she got home, hear Richard’s soft explanations that Mummy wasn’t well and that she needed a lot of sleep. 

Kate hadn’t slept properly since the pregnancy and Richard had taken habit to sleeping in the guest bedroom to give her space. She didn’t know if she wanted him back. 

Suddenly, the door creaked open and Jamie stumbled in with his small blanket and a stuffed bear in his hands. 

“Mummy?” he asked, quietly. He was so, so small. All Kate could think about was her baby in her arms before they’d taken them away. Kate sat up, wincing a little. 

“Jamie? Come here darling,” she called, reaching her arms out and pulling him up onto the bed as he came closer. “What’s wrong?” He was chewing on his blanket. “Darling, don’t do that please.” 

He just nodded and clambered into her lap. Kate held him close and tight. “Just wanted to see if you okay, Mummy,” he said brightly, looking up at her with a big smile. Kate smiled back. 

“Mummy’s okay,” she replied, placing a kiss on his forehead. “Mummy just needs her rest.” 

Jamie just nodded and cuddled into her chest. Kate slowly ran her hands through his hair, trying to tame the mess of curls. 

“Jamie, what did I say?” Richard suddenly said, coming into the room with his hands on his hips. 

Jamie looked up guilty from Kate’s lap. “Mummy needs her rest,” he said sadly. Kate kissed him on the cheek. 

“I always want you here,” she said. Richard looked at him sternly, and then at Kate. 

“Katie,” he said quietly and she sighed. 

“Okay, follow Papa back to your room, okay sweetheart?” Kate asked Jamie, lifting him up to Richard’s arms where Richard threw him over his shoulder and Jamie stared at her sadly. 

“I love you, Mummy,” he called as Richard walked out of the room. 

“I love you too,” she called back, her hand instinctively falling to her stomach. Out of nowhere, her eyes were burning and a hand clamped at her mouth and Kate was so cold again, even though she was underneath two blankets and Jamie had just left and she had just lost their child, one that was supposed to be Jamie’s younger sibling—for fuck’s sake, she’d made it twenty weeks and her sobs echoed through the room as much as she tried not to. 

An arm wrapped around her shoulders and she felt Richard shift onto the bed. 

“Oh Katie,” he whispered, holding onto her tightly. 

“Why  _ us _ ?” she sobbed, burying her face into his shoulder. He was so warm. He smelt like Jamie. “Why, why us?” 

“Katie,” Richard whispered. 

“Why  _ me _ ?” 

Richard just held her and kissed her until she fell asleep. 

Weeks passed. She went back to work. Richard told her that he told Jamie why a little sibling wasn’t coming home. She didn’t ask how it went. She planted a tree in their backyard. Richard helped. Jamie started school. 

Things passed. People moved on. 

Kate didn’t. 

She would go to class and think about her child. Taught about ancient civilizations and wonder if any of them felt the kind of emptiness in her chest, one that even Jamie couldn’t fill, one that Richard couldn’t even touch. 

She came home. Some days there was dinner on the table. Other days there weren’t. Some days she would pick up Jamie from school. Some days it was Richard. 

The world kept spinning. Jamie was growing up. 

Went to elementary school, graduated, went to middle school, graduated. Kate and Richard were there every step of the way, beaming, holding hands, but it was never the same. It would never be the same.

Somewhere in between, she realised that maybe it would never stop hurting. That this was a pain that would simply stay with her, like all the other ones. That she still had Jamie, still had Richard, and she was still Kate, bar a couple of losses here and there. (That was an understatement and she knew it.) 

Time kept going. Kate kept going. 

What other choice did she have? 

Jamie was headed to high school when Richard’s next tour showed up. She supposed they were lucky its taken this long. Jamie, now almost a young man—though Kate would deny it if you asked her—tried to hide his tears as Richard said goodbye on the doorstep but when Kate pulled him in for a warm hug, he cried in her arms for the first time in years. 

Kate kissed Richard hard and told him that he best come home and he just smiled and told her to take care and to never forget that he loved her. 

Jamie went to school and Kate went to work and all she could remember were the days of Richard’s second tour, the one where Jamie was still young and she less scarred and the days on the beach when Jamie would splash around in the shallow depths of the sea. 

She prayed Richard would come home and had dinner with Jamie every night and told him to be safe when he went out with friends and finished her marking by the dim light in the kitchen. The tree in the backyard had grown strong and stiff and she wondered if the two in their old home were still there. Wondered if they were loved like they should’ve been. 

Jamie looked more and more like his father everyday and when he came back that evening, Kate was hit with a pang of just how much and how he even wore his jacket the same way Richard did in college. 

“You okay Mum?” Jamie asked quietly, snapping her out of her thoughts. Kate blinked quickly. 

“Oh yes, dear, just thinking,” she said, giving a tight smile. She reached out and ran a hand through his hair. “You just look so much like your father.” 

“But with your smarts,” he joked, winking. Kate felt her heart burst.

“Only if you finish your homework,” Kate said sternly. Jamie laughed. He sounded so much like his father. 

He plucked a candy from the jar that sat on the counter and popped it in his mouth. “Don’t worry Mum, ‘till we laugh again.” 

Kate did laugh. Jamie smiled and bounded up the stairs after kissing her on the cheek. 

She may have lost so much, but she still had Jamie. And that was enough. 

Richard came home slightly bruised with cuts on his face and a new promotion—Colonel. Kate kissed him and told him how proud she was and Jamie beamed when Richard told them. Richard had said that they’d have to move into a larger home further into the base, but Kate gave him a single look and he said he’d deal with it. 

She kissed him sweetly that night and that she loved him as they settled for bed that night and Richard pulled her close. 

“I think about them all the time,” Richard whispered. Kate didn’t need to ask what he was referring to. 

“I do too,” she replied as he played with her hair. “All the time.” 

“I love you, Katie,” he said. Kate just nodded. She couldn’t bring herself to say it back. 

Everything fell apart when Jamie came home one day and said he wanted to enlist. A rage boiled up inside of Kate that she hadn’t felt for a long, long time. 

“What on earth are you talking about?” Kate shouted. 

“I want to serve,” he simply replied and all Kate could think about was how young Richard was when they met and how young he was when he talked about his plans in the army and how fucking  _ young _ they both were and how little they knew—

“No,” Kate said firmly. “You are not enlisting.” 

Jamie looked at her sharply. 

“Mum, I’m almost eighteen. It won’t matter what you say,” he said. Kate glared at him. 

“You are not enlisting,” she repeated as Richard placed a hand on her shoulder. 

“Jamie,” Richard began. 

“You have such good grades!” Kate shouted. “You have so many options!”

She couldn’t take it. All she could see was Richard before her and Richard in his uniform and how much it hurt when he first left and how much it still hurt. 

“Jamie,” she whispered, grabbing his hand. “Please don’t do this.” 

Jamie looked unsure. 

“Mum, I want to join the army,” he repeated.

“Why are you so much like your father!” Kate screamed, slamming a hand on the table. Her eyes were burning. 

“Katie,” Richard whispered, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the kitchen. “Just give us a second, Jamie.”

“Katie,” Richard repeated, cupping her face. Kate looked up at him. “Our little boy has grown up. We have to let him make his own choices.”

Kate glared at him. “I’m not letting him make the same mistake you did.” 

Richard stepped back like he’d been slapped and Kate said nothing. She stormed back into the kitchen and stared Jamie right in the eye. 

“I don’t care what you decide to do, you are not enlisting,” Kate said firmly. Jamie gulped. “Wash the dishes, please.” 

They didn’t talk about it again. 

Jamie enlisted anyways. Kate didn't talk to Richard for two full days. Soon, Kate started taking on more work at the school. More clubs to run for the students, staying behind to finish her marking, extending her office hours, to avoid the frosty feeling in her home. 

Jamie's training started around a month after his acceptance into the military and Kate cried in the shower that week. 

All she could think about was the children before Jamie and those after and when was she going to stop losing people to this stupid fucking war? (One that barely needed to happen and one that she hated existed.) 

The only condolence she had was that Jamie stayed living on the base, in their home, in the one he had grown up in and the one where Kate had built her family upon. She'd heard from colleagues the difficulty of their children heading off to college and Kate thanked God that this was the one thing she was able to keep. 

She'd stopped going to church but she still prayed every night that she wouldn't lose the two most important people in her life to a stupid fucking cause on the other goddamn side of the world. 

Jamie's little jar of treats from his youth was something that became Kate's and she prayed that he never needed to be deployed. Prayed that if he was, Richard would take his place—

Kate slapped herself across the face. 

(But she knew that Richard would do it, even without asking. They would both die for their son. That was a given.)

Neither of them were deployed in the next couple of years. When Jamie came home one day with a girlfriend on his arm, a lovely Rachel with black hair and bright eyes and the ambition to become a doctor, all Kate could think about was how young she was and wondered if she had ever looked that keen when she was that age. God, she was around Jamie's age when she got married. 

They gave him Richard’s old, shitty car and he almost screamed in delight. Kate hugged him and kissed him on the cheek and told him to drive safe as he tackled his father. 

Jamie was deployed the next day and Kate sniffed loudly as she patted down his collar and kissed him on the cheek and hugged him so tight she thought she'd never let go. 

"Come home to us, darling," she whispered. "We love you so much."

Jamie nodded and hugged her back. "Don't worry Mum, I'll always be here." 

He was so young. He looked so much like Richard. 

"You look just like your father," Kate said, her voice trembling. "Look just as handsome as the day I married him." 

Jamie blushed and Kate kissed him on the cheek again. 

_ Please come home. Please let him come home.  _

Richard held her tightly and they watched him leave until he disappeared from view. Kate buried her face into Richard's shoulder and cried. 

"This is all your fault," she teased half-heartedly. Richard patted her back. 

"Come inside, Katie," was all he said and when had he aged so much? She looked down at their hands. When had they gotten so  _ old _ ? That their son was going off to war. 

Kate wiped her eyes and kissed him firmly. "I love you," she said because she didn't say it last time. Richard smiled at her. 

"I love you too, Katie."

She was at work when the news came. Her phone rang right at the end of class and it was from Richard. 

"Katie, you need to come back," he said frantically and her heart dropped. Grabbing her keys she ran out of the classroom, not even bothering to excuse herself, and raced home. 

There was a black car parked on the driveway. 

_ No, no, no, no— _

Her heels hurt her feet as she scampered up inside, coming face to face with a tearful Richard and two men dressed in black suits and a letter in their hands on her couch. 

_ No, no, no, he was coming home. He was coming home.  _

Kate dropped her bag. Richard looked at her, his eyes bright, and she fell into his arms. The two men didn't anything. They didn't need to. 

Her heart was pounding in her ears. Her hands were cold. Richard was crying. 

Kate buried her face into his sweater. He smelt like Jamie.  _ He smelt like Jamie.  _

_ No, no, no, no— _

The two men eventually left and Kate felt the tears start to truly come. Jamie, Jamie, Jamie, _ my baby, my miracle.  _

"This is all your fault!" she yelled, punching Richard hard. He flinched. "I told him—I told him not to join the fucking military, but you said yes! You let him go! You let him  _ go— _ " 

"You let him go," she sobbed, hitting him repeatedly. "You let our baby boy go—" 

"Katie," Richard whispered. "Katie, Katie, Katie." 

She didn't remember anything afterwards. 

“Richard?” Kate whispered as she woke up in the middle of night to quiet sobs. “Richard—” 

She turned over and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly.

“Oh God, Katie,” he gasped, facing her. “I’m so sorry,” he choked. Kate pulled him closer and kissed him on the forehead. 

“I’m so sorry,” he repeated. “So, so sorry.” 

Kate just held him. 

It was a warm sunny day on the day of Jamie’s funeral. Kate and Richard were in the front row. She stared forward, avoiding Jamie’s coffin and Jamie’s photo and the fact that they were burying Jamie when it should’ve been the other way around—

Kate sniffed and blew her nose into her handkerchief. 

People came up to shake her hand afterwards. She couldn’t remember who and didn’t care either. Didn’t even know if she knew them in the first place. 

The sun was bright and she was warm and Richard didn’t hold her hand when they lowered him into the grave. 

Kate didn’t cry. Neither did Richard. 

The house was dark and empty when they got back. 

She didn’t go back to work. Neither did Richard, really. 

The house was empty and there was nothing to fill it. 

Kate remembered when Jamie was young, so many years ago when  _ she _ was young, she took him to the beach when Richard was on tour, to show him the beauties the world had to offer, and how she thought even if they lost Richard, they would be okay, because she had Jamie. 

Now she only has Richard and lost another child and the house was so  _ fucking _ quiet and Kate didn’t know what to do. 

Kate tried to join in with some of the women in Flitcroft, knew that they talked, knew that they knew what happened. Most of them probably showed up at the funeral. 

It didn’t work. 

She picked up a good drink everyday. She went to Jamie’s grave every other day. She didn’t speak to Richard. 

Time didn’t seem to exist. She wondered if she should plant a tree for Jamie. She wondered if her two trees were still there in their first house. 

Before, she’d learnt to live with the pain. 

She wasn’t sure if she could live with this one. 

“Katie,” Richard said one day at dinner. She looked up. It’d been a while since she’d heard his voice. “I think, I think we should—”

“Richard, we both know what happened,” Kate said sternly, primly dabbing at her mouth with her napkin. “Let’s not pretend that it was anything else.”

Richard looked crestfallen but didn’t object. Kate excused herself and went up to her room. She couldn’t look at Jamie’s. 

“I miss him too, you know,” Richard said, running into the room. “You know, sometimes I think you’ve forgotten that you weren’t the only one who lost a son.” 

Kate froze. 

“You didn’t stop him,” she whispered. Richard’s shoulders slumped. “You let him go.” 

“I know,” he said softly, grabbing her hand. “I know, Katie, don’t you think that’s all I can think about?” She let him. “I love you.” 

It’d been so long since she’d heard those words. She closed her eyes. 

“I—” 

“It’s okay,” he said, pulling her closer. “I know.” 

She let him kiss her and she could taste the salt from his tears. She let him take her to bed in the dark of night and for a little, just a little, she could pretend that they were twenty-two and newly married and young again. 

“I love you,” she whispered. 

The house was still cold. Richard was deployed the next day. Her nerves chilled like she was twenty-four again and it was Richard’s first tour because this was her first tour in a long time without Jamie. 

She still hadn’t cleaned out his room. His car was still in the driveway. He kissed her on the cheek and he told her  _ I love you  _ but she didn’t say it back and she didn’t watch him leave and she didn’t turn off the lights downstairs. 

The next day she told Crooks that she wanted to help out with whatever the women were doing. He told her he’d sort it out and the lights were almost never turned off when she came home.

She told herself it would make it feel less empty. 

Told herself that it would be like she was just waiting for Jamie to come home. (But his car stayed unused in the driveway and his bedroom was the same and Katie was Kate again for another six months.) 

The next day, she planted another tree. The first one was taller than her now. 

Lisa was annoying, was Kate’s first thought when she met her. Thought that she could just do whatever she wanted with this and act like wasn’t the leader of the group when she really was. Nothing was organized, nothing in order, everything a  _ goddamn _ mess—

She tried to corral some of them, to get some ideas flowing, putting on her Teacher hat and grabbing a marker but the comments were… Well, let’s just say she winced at the stripper comment.

Then, a young, timid girl—God she looked so young, couldn’t have been much older than Jamie—raised her hand. 

“Yes?” 

“What about singing?” 

“Singing?” 

Kate shared a look with Lisa, whose ears almost seemed to perk up. Well. Singing it was. 

Kate went home to a silent house but if she played music loud enough that it wasn’t anymore and flipped through old, old pages of choral pieces and settled on a couple that she remembered best from high school. She wished that they had a piano in the house. She didn’t think she’d touched one since she was at least sixteen. God, had she ever been that young? 

Communications went down the next day and all Kate could think about were all those other fucking times they went down and how on Jamie’s tour they never did. She found herself marching over to Lisa’s house early in the morning, knocking sharply on the door. 

She was greeted by a young girl who was presumably Lisa’s daughter. 

She was so, so young. She wondered if she had known Jamie. 

Lisa was cold and tired and clearly just tumbled out of bed so Kate gave her news and made her way down the street, trying not to think about the fact that her house was always so fucking empty, how Richard wasn’t coming home soon, how much she missed Jamie that her chest hurt. 

Didn’t think it would ever stop. 

The first choir practice was a disaster. Clearly, none of them had ever done this before and Lisa, who obviously thought that she knew everything, also had no clue what she was doing. 

“Lisa, this isn’t sober karaoke, the women need something to focus on, once a week, something challenging,” Kate started. _ I need something to focus on instead of my fucking empty house. _

“Well if you think singing God’s tunes with a pole up your arse is going to solve things, then you’re more out of touch than I thought,” Lisa snapped back, storming off. Kate’s jaw dropped as she fumed. 

She drove home and Googled how to conduct and pulled out a pair of chopsticks leftover from the last time they got takeout with Jamie and stood in front of a mirror, pulled herself tall, and figured out this whole music thing without much than her distant memories from high school classes. 

She threw up later that night and her stomach dropped—both figuratively and literally. It couldn’t be. She was too old. They were too old. It wasn’t possible. 

But as she knelt in front of the toilet, she  _ knew _ . 

Ran out to the nearest pharmacy for a test because it’d been so long since her last and she wasn’t even sure which one to buy this time. She bought three just in case and at eleven at night, Kate found out that she was pregnant again after nearly twenty years. 

Her heart was pounding her ears. It couldn’t be. 

She booked a doctor’s appointment for the next morning. Simply couldn’t be. There had to be some kind of a mistake. Couldn’t, not after all these years.

She wanted to cry but found that the tears wouldn’t come. Wanted Jamie back. Wanted Richard back. 

“Congratulations, Mrs Barkley, you are indeed pregnant,” her doctor informed her, smiling. Kate’s jaw dropped.

“But—” 

“While unlikely, not completely impossible, clearly,” the doctor continued as Kate sat back in shock. “You’re only two weeks along but because of a geriatric pregnancy, we’ll have to monitor you a lot closer.” 

“Wait, wait, I’m not even sure if I’m going to keep it,” Kate stammered out. Didn’t know if she could, so soon after Jamie. Didn’t know if she  _ wanted _ to. 

Her doctor followed along patiently. “There are options and we can provide a referral if necessary.” 

Kate nodded as she prattled on and all she could think about was Jamie and his bright smile when he was told that he was going to be an older sibling. 

When she got home she cried on the bathroom floor and wondered how many times she was supposed to go through this alone. Fuck Richard and his war. 

Instead, she studied the sheet music Lisa’d given her, pouring over the notes and melodies and tried some of them out in the emptiness of her home. Her hand fell to her stomach and God, it’d been so long, she couldn’t even carry a child to term in her twenties, how on Earth was she expected to do so now? 

She found the nearest clinic and planned to call to schedule an appointment the next morning. Couldn’t do it. Couldn’t lose another. 

Suddenly, what sounded suspiciously like a bunch of trash cans falling over clanged outside her house and Kate grabbed her sweater and made her way outside only to find a plastered Frankie on the sidewalk. 

“Frankie?” 

“Lost all my stuff,” she mumbled into the floor. Kate sighed and grabbed her arm, hefting her up. 

“Come on, let’s get you inside,” she said quietly, shuffling them into the hallway, heavily reminded of the first time Jamie got drunk. She settled Frankie on the couch, on her side, grabbed a basket in case she needed to puke, carefully set her things aside and proceeded to call Lisa fifteen times.

“Shhh,” she whispered as Frankie tried to say something, brushing her bangs aside. She couldn’t lose another. “Your mother will be here soon,” she added even though she wasn’t sure how true it was. 

A little while later, when Frankie had passed out and Kate was quietly reading beside her, there was a frantic knocking on the door and Kate let in a very worried Lisa. 

“You know, we could leave her, let her sleep it off,” Kate suggested, crossing her arms around her stomach. Lisa looked at her. 

“Yeah maybe, you sure?” Lisa asked, sounding worried. Kate nodded. 

“Yeah.”

“I guess they just need to let off a bit of steam sometimes,” Lisa explained, shrugging her shoulders. 

“Apparently, if they see their parents drinking they’re twice as likely to do so themselves,” Kate added quickly. 

Lisa just rolled her eyes and Kate showed her out the door as she watched Frankie softly snore on the couch. Grabbing Frankie's things from the coffee table, she headed to the kitchen, wiping them off carefully of the rain and thought about the first time Jamie was drunk and wished more than anything in the world that it was him on the couch instead of Frankie. 

Kate sighed, wanted to slap herself, and went to bed with memories of Jamie's smile and Richard's eyes. Soon, they started to blur together. 

Kate's alarm blared through the room, waking her at promptly seven even though it was a weekend and she really had nothing to do but for the sake of schedule. She wondered if she should've gone back to work but realised that if she barely stand the sight of Frankie in place of Jamie, there was no way she could go back to teaching classrooms of students just around his age. 

God. He was so young. 

Kate puttered around the kitchen, putting on a pot of coffee for Frankie and grabbing some toast. Eventually, Frankie stumbled in, hair messed and make-up slightly smeared. 

“Good morning!” Kate greeted. 

“Hello,” Frankie mumbled. 

"Sorry, I don't have any more exciting breakfast cereals anymore; is toast okay?" Kate asked cheerfully, setting a cup in front of Frankie. 

"Yeah, thanks," Frankie muttered. "Did I puke?" 

"Nope," Kate replied brightly. "I cleaned up all your things as well." She nodded towards the counter and brought plates for the both of them. 

"Your place is dead-tidy," Frankie commented, looking around. Kate smiled. "Ours always looks like a bomb’s gone off when Dad’s away. Though I suppose you don’t have anyone to make a mess of it.“

Kate chuckled and passed her the jam. "Suppose keeping it tidy gives you something to do," was all she said, her smile tight. 

"Do you don’t think about him?“ 

Oh darling. Oh  _ darling _ . 

Frankie was so young. Jamie was so  _ young _ . Kate tensed a little. 

"You don’t think you know when people die, but we do," Frankie continued, pointing a fork at her. "Like everyone at school talks about it." 

Kate avoided her gaze, pouring out the milk. “They talked about Jamie?”

She tried to remember Jamie's friends at the funeral, tried to remember his girlfriend and found that she couldn't. Couldn't remember anything beyond the fact that it was a warm day and she was lowering her baby boy into the ground.

"They talked about you more," said Frankie, her mouth full with toast. Kate froze. 

"I'll call your mother," she replied tightly, reaching for her phone. Frankie just nodded and Kate immediately felt her stomach tumble. Oh God. 

She clamped a hand over her mouth, muttered her excuses, and scrambled for the bathroom, puking her guts out. A hand on the toilet seat, she sat back, leaning against the wall and stared at the ceiling. God. This was really happening. Her hand fell to her stomach. 

"Kate?" came Frankie's tentative call as she popped her head through the door. Her eyes immediately narrowed. "You okay? Was it something I sai—”

"No, no, just fine dear. I think it was the seafood I had for dinner last night," Kate quickly explained, standing up and wavering a little. Frankie grabbed her arm, still looking concerned. 

"Are you sure?" Frankie asked again, still holding onto her. Kate gently lifted her grasp, straightened her shirt, flushed the toilet, washed her hands, and walked back out into the kitchen. 

"No need to worry, I probably just ate something wrong," Kate reassured. Frankie didn't look convinced as her phone pinged. "Oh, look, your mother's here," Kate said quickly. "Grab your things while I get the door, please." 

The door rang and Kate took a deep breath, popping a mint beforehand. 

"Hey Lisa," she said, smiling brightly. Lisa smiled back. 

"Hey Kate. Is she ready?" asked Lisa, whose hair looked lovely in the morning sun. It looked soft. "Thanks so much for doing this, Kate." 

"Of course, don't worry!" Kate replied. "Frankie!"

"Coming!" Frankie's footsteps clambered through the house and God, oh God, how Kate wished that there'd be more goddamn sound in this godforsaken house of her's. Her hand wanted to touch her stomach, but she stopped herself. 

For fuck's sake, she didn't even know if she wanted to keep it. If she even  _ could _ keep it. 

"Also Mum, you should tell Kate to see a doctor," Frankie commented. "She threw up this morning." Kate glared at Frankie, who gave her an angelic smile. A shit-eating smile. Kate thought about Jamie's car, goddamn Dave and Shitrider, Jamie. 

Lisa looked at her sharply, clearly concerned. Kate stopped herself from rolling her eyes. 

"I'm fine. Just had some wrong food last night," Kate explained, before Lisa could respond. Lisa just narrowed her eyes. 

"Well, just take care of yourself, okay Kate?" Lisa said, patting her on the arm. Kate nodded. "Thanks so much again." 

Kate watched them drive away. 

She threw up the next morning. And the morning after that. And the morning after that. God, she almost forgot about this part of pregnancy. (She also didn't call the clinic.) 

She, as usual, threw up the morning before choir practice and thought she did her make-up carefully enough. 

"You okay?" Lisa asked quietly. Kate blinked. 

"Of course," Kate spit. "Why wouldn't I be?" 

"You look a little pale," Lisa replied. "Have food poisoning or something?" 

"Maybe a stomach bug." Kate twisted her fingers. "Let's get started, everyone!" 

Lisa led them through a somewhat coordinated, but awful, rendition of "Shout". She ignored Kate’s sheet music and was tense and loud and also incredibly annoying, but all Kate could think about was how her hair was pulled up into a ponytail and how she looked in her pants and how Richard wasn’t  _ fucking _ here again and Kate was too old to be going through this alone. 

Thought about how she wanted someone in the house, wanted someone in her bed, wanted someone to come home to, wanted Jamie back and she argued with Lisa all afternoon. 

Kate went to her next appointment alone. She wished Richard was in the driver's seat instead of her. Wished that Richard was there to hold her hand. She wondered if she was going to go through another loss alone. 

Her hand was on her stomach while she sat nervously in the waiting room.

"Kate Barkley?" the nurse called and Kate shot up, following her into the office. 

"Nice to see you again, Kate," her doctor welcomed. "Any issues so far?" 

"Just the usual morning sickness," Kate replied calmly, sitting down on the table and putting her bag aside. Her hands were clammy. 

"You've decided to continue, yes?" 

"I'm," she started. "I'm not sure." Dr. Balaji looked kindly at her. 

"I understand," she replied. "It's not uncommon with pregnancies like this." 

Kate nodded as the doctor re-explained the complications involved and her options and if she needed any help. She said no and then found herself gripping the steering wheel all the way back to Flitcroft. 

She threw up once she got home and placed a hand on her stomach. God. 

She missed Jamie. 

To ignore everything, Kate poured herself into the choir. She kept on wondering if she should've gone back to work. Wondered if she could still go back to work. 

She studied sheet music, practiced how to conduct, and hoped that each meeting would be more singing and less of her and Lisa butting heads.

It was cold the day they went out for a hike. Very cold and Kate was bundled up carefully. Even if she hadn't booked an appointment yet didn't mean that her risks were lower. 

Lisa was pressed up against her, shielding her from the wind. She looked lovely in her hat. Her eyes were bright and she was warm against Kate's arm. She smelled like coffee and a little bit of motor oil. 

They trudged through the mud and the rain and the cold to a cave where some of the other wives start singing and Kate was perched on a rock watching as Lisa talked amongst them, noticing how she smiled and how she laughed and how she looked at Kate when Jess started singing, her voice echoing through like a swan. 

"Maybe this choir isn't about singing for ourselves, maybe it's about them being heard," Lisa said suddenly, bumping up against Kate. 

"Are you suggesting a performance?" Kate asked, shocked, looking at Lisa. 

“Yeah, but nothing fancy, maybe just go into town,” Lisa added quickly. Kate grinned, even though she said something stupid about appropriateness even though she was already thinking about which song they could do, possible venues, and how Lisa would look in concert blacks or performance whites. 

“Want to drop by to work on it a little?” Lisa asked once they got back to Flitcroft, while Kate shivered a little even though the bus was warm and the atmosphere bright. Kate smiled. 

“Sure,” she said, and followed Lisa back. Their house was a little smaller and Kate could envision a younger, smaller Frankie run across the grassy front lawn. Could almost hear her laughter like she did with Jamie. 

“How long have you lived here?” Kate asked, handing Lisa her coat. 

“Around nine years,” Lisa replied. Kate nodded. “I remember Frankie was so upset with moving until she saw how big her room was.”

Kate chuckled. “That sounds like her.” 

“You?” 

“Since Jamie was two,” Kate replied. Lisa just nodded. 

They settled down for a couple of hours, discussing song choices and music options and printing out sheet music and just the lyrics while Kate went over conducting a little as Lisa fiddled around with the keyboard. 

“You know, there is an actual piano,” Kate commented as Lisa ran out of octaves to play. Lisa looked at her sheepishly. 

“Do you want to me to drag that thing here?” she snapped back. Kate grinned a little. 

“No, of course not.” 

She went home lighter than she had in ages with a spring in her step. 

They pushed the women harder. Upped the amount of practices. Separated them into different parts. Really nailed the music into their heads. They started sounding better. Sounding stronger. 

Kate couldn’t take her eyes off Lisa the entire time. Watched her as she played the piano. Watched her as her hair swung while she walked. Tried not to think of Richard when she came home and tried not to hope that Jamie was just coming off school afterwards. 

Then, they were invited to Albert Hall, to  _ the _ Albert Hall and Kate’s nerves shot up but Lisa was there, and she was doing this with Lisa, and they were in this together, and it gave her something to work towards in that empty house of hers, and more time with Lisa—

The marketplace performance was a disaster, but Lisa’s lovely words and even lovelier smile calmed Kate’s worries away and told her that yes,  _ everything was going to be okay _ and for a second there, Kate almost believed it.

Her hand fell to her stomach and yes, she almost believed it. 

Her first ultrasound was scheduled later that week. 

Doctor said that she wanted to monitor her closer. Closer than usual, given her history, the doctor said and Kate buried her face in her hands and wondered that maybe, this could fill the hole in her heart that Jamie left. 

Richard wasn’t there to drive her, to hold her hand, and Kate ached for someone, anyone, to be with her. Couldn’t go through this alone. 

She was tempted to ask Lisa but she found herself driving alone to the hospital, found herself alone in the waiting room, wondering if this would be like last time, wondering if she could even give this baby life. 

The screen was moving and the heartbeat echoed through the room and no one was holding her hand, no one else was hearing her baby’s life, and Kate was  _ fucking _ alone—

But she couldn’t take her eyes off of the grainy, black image that barely looked like a fetus and she wanted to listen to the small  _ thump, thump, thump _ and she wanted to hear little feet in her kitchen again, wanted to see the ocean again, wanted to stop by a playground because a small hand demanded her to. 

She deleted the number to the clinic off her notes and crossed it out on her to-do list. Thought about Jamie and how much he would’ve loved a younger sibling. How close he was to getting a baby sister or brother all those years ago. 

Thought about how much Jamie would love this baby. Thought about Richard and how much she hated he was on the other side of the world and not sharing this with her. Not fucking being here with her. 

Lisa dragged her out later to the bar, telling her that all the other wives were there and this was a celebration of sorts, for both Albert Hall but also to cheer everyone up and Kate was tempted to say no, say that she was busy, say that she wanted to stay at home when she clearly didn’t, but with one look of Lisa’s pleading eyes she caved and she was in Lisa’s car and Lisa’s perfume was in the air and her hair tied up and how her shirt fit just right and how Lisa looked lovely in the streetlights. 

Her hand touched her stomach and she wanted to tell it that everything was going to be okay, like Lisa had told her, but she couldn’t find the words and they drove silently through the evening.

“I’m not drinking, by the way,” Kate said firmly as Lisa parked and they could hear the blaring noise from inside the building. Lisa looked at her. 

“We’re at a bar,” was all she said as she sauntered inside and Kate followed her with a sigh.

“Here,” Lisa said, handing her a beer. 

“Lisa, I already said—” 

“Kate,” Lisa said sternly. “Loosen up a little.”

Kate wanted to scream at her, even though she looked beautiful in the neon lights. 

“Thank you, Lisa,” Kate replied, pushing the glass away. “But no thanks.” 

Lisa just huffed and passed the drink to Sarah. “Fine, be that way,” she said, but Kate knew it was a joke when she lightly slapped her on the shoulder. 

Kate watched as Maz stepped on stage to sing, laughing hard with Lisa. 

“Ah, our professional choir,” Lisa lamented jovially, almost leaning over Kate. “Come on, let’s go up for one.” 

Kate shook her head. “Absolutely not. Karaoke is  _ hell _ .” 

Lisa nudged her. “Come on,” she whined, tugging at Kate’s arm. 

“No,” Kate repeated. “I’ve done it once, once”—she emphasized once Lisa’s eyes got bright—“to ‘Tainted Love’ and ended up throwing up in Richard’s parents’ backyard.” 

“Doesn’t that sound fun?” Lisa called over the noise of the bar. “Let me—” 

And she was off, leaving Kate at the table with two beers and eventually, “Tainted Love” running through the air and everything was too much and nothing at all and the sound was so loud and the lights were too bright and all she could see was Jamie’s face and Jamie’s laugh and Jamie’s eyes and how much he looked like his father—

The cold air hit her face with a gush and she sighed into the street, letting the streetlights calm her and she sat down on the bench with a huff. Her hand fell to her stomach and she was surprised to feel a very, very, very slight bump. 

“Hi,” she whispered. “Hi darling.” 

“Kate?” 

Lisa’s voice snapped her out of it and she looked up at her, Lisa’s hair almost glowing in the street. She looked lovely. Kate gave her a tight smile. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to push you,” she said quietly, sitting down beside Kate. Kate wanted to hold her hand. 

“No, no,” Kate said. It was quiet. “I sang that song with Jamie at his eighteenth.” 

Lisa whispered a soft oh. 

“He begged me; I was mortified, of course. He was so happy.” 

“Red always told me that he’d find the funny in everything,” Lisa offered, giving a small chuckle. Kate nodded. She found herself talking more. Maybe it was the cold. Maybe it was the fact that she was pregnant again and Richard wasn’t here but Lisa was and she needed someone to talk to. 

“Until we laugh again, he’d say.” 

“That’s lovely,” Lisa replied, reaching for her hand. It was so warm. Lisa was so warm. The air remained cold against her cheek. 

“I’m pregnant,” she suddenly said. 

There. It was out. The words hung in the air. She was pregnant.  _ She was pregnant _ . 

Lisa was silent. 

“Kate—”

Shit. 

Kate immediately stood up. The air was cold and her hand was warm from Lisa’s. 

She heard Lisa call her name as she left and hailed a cab. 

When the door knocked, she  _ knew _ . She wasn’t dressed and the house was dark and empty and once again, there were two impeccably dressed men on her doorstep and they were in her living room and they were on her couch with a letter that she already knew what it said and they said meaningless words that she didn’t hear. 

All she could think about was her baby, her and Richard’s baby, and how he didn’t even know, how she couldn’t even tell him,  _ how he was going to be a father again _ —

Her eyes were burning and her chest hurt and there was such an emptiness in her that she couldn’t quite describe or fill or even fathom. 

Earlier, she told herself that even if she’d lost Jamie, she still had Richard. _ Still had Richard _ . 

She felt her hands punching at the pillow. Didn’t fucking have him now. Didn’t even know that he was going to be a father again.

That they were going to be a family again. That Jamie was finally going to have a younger sibling. 

That they could’ve been happy again. 

Her house was silent. It was always going to be silent. 

She fell asleep on the couch. 

Her pants were soaked when she woke up. 

Kate gasped, looking down at herself. There was blood everywhere. It was all over the couch. Some on the carpet. It was so red.

“Richard—” she called, until she remembered that Richard wasn’t home, that Richard wasn’t coming home, that  _ he was never coming home _ , that this time, she was truly, utterly alone, and all she felt was the exhaustion that had crept into her bones and sunk into her veins. 

She should’ve cried. She wanted to cry. 

_ Knock, knock.  _

Kate jumped and stared at the door. Who—

The door knocked again. Kate was frozen. It was so cold. Her hands were still. The door knocked again. And again, and again, and again, until it slammed open and Kate jumped. 

“Kate? Kate, you weren’t at practice this morning—”

Lisa stopped, shocked. Her jaw dropped and Kate just sat there. 

“I—”

“We’re going to the hospital, now,” Lisa demanded, grabbing her arm and gently pulling her upright. “Can you stand?” 

Kate nodded numbly. All she thought about was how the last time it was like this, she was alone, she drove alone, and saw the doctor alone and this time, she wasn’t. 

Lisa helped her into the car, the one that just yesterday evening, when Richard was still alive and she was still pregnant and Lisa was taking her to the bar. She stared blankly ahead while Lisa sped through the streets. She wasn’t holding her hand. 

Lisa barrelled her through the emergency room and all Kate could register was the noise, how different it was from last time, when she’d signed herself in and signed herself out. 

The room was stark white and her pants were covered in red and when the doctor told her that she’d lost her baby, she didn’t feel anything but numb. 

Couldn’t remember Jamie’s smile or Richard’s laugh or the way that they would play tag in the backyard. Tried to think of what it would’ve been like if Richard wasn’t gone. 

She thought she felt Lisa hold her hand but she couldn’t remember. 

She was in the hospital for a little. Not too long, not like last time. Then again, she wasn’t going home alone. Lisa took her home. Lisa drove her back. Lisa helped her into the house.

“I’m staying with you,” Lisa said. Kate looked up. 

“You don’t need to,” she whispered, but yes, she did need it, she needed it, she wanted it, she wanted Lisa to stay, please, please, please don’t leave me. 

“I don’t care,” Lisa said firmly. “You have a guest bedroom?” 

Kate nodded and thanked God for this one, small mercy. Stay, stay, stay. 

“Just down the hall,” she pointed. “I’ll set it up.” 

Lisa stopped her with a hand on her arm. “Kate,” she said softly. 

And suddenly, she wasn’t sure if it was because it was Lisa, or if it was the way Lisa said her name, or the way that everything somehow just hit, that Richard wasn’t coming home, that Richard didn’t know, that she was given another chance but she lost it, that she had another chance but she lost it, she fell to the ground, her chest heaving with sobs. 

Lisa’s arms wrapped around her and she was so, so warm. 

“It was my last chance,” she whispered. “My last memory of him.” 

She wasn’t sure if she was referring to Jamie or Richard or both. “My last chance,” she cried as Lisa pulled her into her arms and they leaned against the wall. 

“Stay,” she said. “Please stay.” 

“I’m not going anywhere, Kate,” Lisa said. 

“No, please stay with me, tonight,” Kate choked out. Lisa nodded. 

“Okay,” she replied, brushing Kate’s hair. “Okay.” 

Lisa slowly helped her up and they climbed into bed and all Kate could smell was Lisa’s perfume and her hair in her face and as Lisa wrapped her arms around her as her quiet humming lulled her to sleep. 

She woke up to the sun shining in through the windows and Lisa pushing the curtains back. 

“Morning,” she said cheerfully and everything from before came crashing back onto Kate. Lisa in her bed. Lisa in her bed, the day after her husband had just died, the day after she had just lost their child—

“I need you to go,” Kate said firmly. Her voice wavered. Lisa blinked. 

“What?” 

“I can’t have you here,” Kate said. If her heart could break again, it would’ve there. At Kate kicking Lisa out of her house. At Kate kicking Lisa out of her bed when she didn’t want her anywhere else. 

“Kate—”

“Please go,” she whispered and Lisa left with a thud of the door closing. Kate sobbed into her hands.  _ Stay _ . 

It was a cold, rainy day on Richard’s funeral. She didn’t remember much. She wondered if she could’ve buried her child along with him. Lisa was standing beside her, shoulder to shoulder, and when she reached for Kate’s hand, Kate let her. 

Tried to forgot that she told her to leave, told her to go when she didn’t want her to. Lisa’s hand was warm and she was warm against cold, cold Kate. 

When they lowered Richard into the ground, Kate wished that she was with him. Jealous that he was seeing all the children they’d lost, that he got to see Jamie again, that Kate wasn’t and she was still fucking stuck here, in the cold, in the rain, as the gunfire sounded and as Lisa held her hand. 

She didn’t remember the condolences everyone gave her, all the I’m so sorry and the I can’t imagine, but she did remember Lisa whispering with Sarah and Maz and Lucy and “We have to pull out of the Albert Hall” and Kate—

“What?” 

Lisa looked at her. They all looked at her. Kate fumbled with her hands. 

“We can’t pull out now. It’d be improper,” she said as steadily as she could. She couldn’t lose the choir. Not now. Couldn’t lose one more thing. (God, she needed to think about moving off base.) 

“Kate—” 

“No, we have to stay in,” she said. Pleaded. She caught Lisa’s eye. She nodded. 

“Okay, it’s okay Kate, we’ll discuss at the next practice,” Lisa said softly, grabbing her arm. Kate nodded. The air was cold. “Come on, let’s get you home.” 

Kate shrugged off Lisa’s hand. “Thank you, but I’m fine,” she said quietly. There were so many things that she wanted to say that she couldn’t. So many things she wanted to do but couldn’t. So many things that she wanted. 

Her eyes lingered on Lisa’s face. 

The house was empty and dark and cold when she got back. The couch was cleaned. She wondered if it was Lisa. Her chest ached. She wondered if it would ever stop.

Lisa suggested writing their own song and Kate was so relieved to find that yes, they were still continuing with the performance that she didn’t even protest, was glad that she was with this circle of women for a couple of hours a week so she didn’t have to say in that stupidly silent house of hers. 

She wondered if she should’ve gone back to work. 

She supposed that she’d have to soon enough. Thought about the schools in the area and wondered if she could speak to her previous headmaster, wondered if he was even there anymore. 

Wondered how much had changed. Wondered if she would even stay near Flitcroft. 

“Kate, do you want to add anything?” Lisa asked as Annie finished speaking.

“No,” she lied, like the night she told Lisa to leave, like the night she told Lisa to go when she really wanted her stay, like the way that she told herself that she didn’t need her when she really did. 

Lisa didn’t push and Kate didn’t want her to. (That was a lie. She wanted her to.) 

Wanted to hold her hand, wanted to pull her close, wanted her in her home and in her bed—

She planted a tree in the backyard when she got home even though she knew she’d have to move soon. The one next to it was tall her than her now. Her hand fell to her stomach and how she wished there was a bump, a heartbeat like the ones she’d heard in the hospital room, a life. 

Lisa lead the choir through practice after practice, Kate there by her side but was she really? All she could think about was Richard, their unborn child, Jamie, and Lisa. Started looking at possible places to rent and job applications. 

Didn’t know if she could go back to teaching young children with bright futures and loud laughter but also didn’t know if she really had a choice. 

The performance caught up on her. Dave still sat in her driveway. Richard’s clothes were still in the closet. They were everywhere. In the ground, in the air—Jamie’s bedroom hadn’t changed in over two years—in the kitchen and all Kate could do was clean, clean, as if she could wipe it all away with a broom. Erase them when in fact they were embedded into the walls. 

Wanted them back but she also wanted Lisa. Wanted Richard but also wanted Lisa. Wanted Jamie, wanted the child she just lost, but if she was really being honest with herself, she wanted someone in her house, someone in her bed, just for a second, just for a moment, so nothing would be so fucking  _ quiet _ anymore. 

Kate wanted to scream. 

She found she couldn’t. 

She wanted to cry. (Couldn’t do that either.) 

She packed carefully, tried not remember the last time she wore this dress, tried to remember what Richard smelled like but to her horror, to her absolute horror, she couldn’t. 

She fell asleep still dressed. 

“‘Until we laugh again’, whose is that?” Annie asked in the cold morning as they all crowded around the bus. Kate froze. She looked at Lisa. She glared at Lisa. 

“I was going to clear it with you, but it was too late and I thought it’d help—”

“I told you that in  _ confidence _ ,” Kate hissed. All she could think about was Lisa holding her and Lisa in her house and Lisa in her bed. “Not for you to fill a hole in your crass, sentimental ballad with my  _ son’s _ words,” she continued, seething. The trees in her backyard. The job applications on her counter. Jamie’s bedroom. 

“You’re always losing sight of what’s important,” Kate shouted, ignoring the fact that all the other women were around them and she was creating a scene—all she could think about was Jamie, Jamie, Jamie and his younger sibling and the life they should’ve had. “Ignoring your daughter who’s prowling around like a cat on heat—before you know it, she’ll be handing out BJ’s!” Kate screamed, throwing her shoe. She was shaking. It wasn’t because of the cold. 

“You don’t hand out blowjobs, you do it with your mouth,” Lisa snapped back. “Not that you’d know that—I’m sure you tell Richard to keep calm and carry on while he’s shagging you.” 

Kate closed her eyes. Wanted Richard back. 

“You know what, Kate?” Lisa barrelled on, glaring at her. “I never claimed to be a good songwriter, or even a good mum, but I am trying and all you do is criticize and nag and tell me to leave when we both know that you want me to stay!” 

Her heart was pounding in her chest.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Kate said coldly.

Lisa glared at her. Looked at her like she hated her. Kate couldn’t blame her. 

“You’re an uptight bitch, Kate!” she exclaimed. “No wonder your husband volunteered to go back to the war!” 

She deserved that, she supposed. Thought about Richard’s clothes still in the closet. 

“In fact, the whole choir was your bloody idea in the first place—giving me that whole bullshit speech on the women needing it, when it was you!” 

“No,” Kate shot back. “We all needed it—” 

“No, we don’t Kate, because we still have our kids!” 

Kate stepped back like Lisa had slapped her. She wished she had. It would’ve hurt less. Her eyes were burning. 

She turned on her heel, grabbed her luggage, and left as fast as she could. All she could think was Jamie, Jamie, Jamie. 

Dave still sat in her driveway. 

She thought about the trees in her backyard. Dropped her things and fell into the front seat, crying harder than she had in years, crying harder than maybe ever, remembering all the hospital rooms and how long it took to have Jamie, how happy they were, how she still had Richard and then she didn’t, how Lisa was in her bed when she shouldn’t have been but Kate still wanting her to— 

Thought about Lisa and her harsh but fair words and her bright hair and her lovely smile and her warm hands.

There was a knock on the window and Kate looked up, shocked. Lisa smiled sheepishly. 

“Can I come in?” she asked. Kate nodded.  _ Please, please, please. Stay _ . 

“Kate, I’m so sorry,” she whispered as she grabbed Kate’s hand. “So, so sorry.” 

Kate wiped at her eyes. 

“God, no I should be sorry,” she gasped out, holding onto Lisa tight, holding onto her the way she did that night she asked her to stay. Held her like she should have. “I’m so sorry. You’re none of those things, Lisa. You’re good and you’re kind and you’re a great mum, Frankie is so lucky—”

“Shhh,” Lisa simply said and held her. She was so warm. “I said such awful things, Kate, I couldn’t ever be sorry enough.” 

Kate looked into her bright eyes and noticed how lovely she looked in the dim light of the car and how her perfume filled the air. She pulled at Lisa’s collar and pulled her close, pulled her in like she had wanted to all those weeks ago, and kissed her, softly, gently, could taste her tears on their lips, kissed her like she had nothing else, kissed her like it was the end, kissed her like Lisa was the only thing in the world. 

_ Please stay.  _

“Kate—” 

Kate just kissed her and kissed her and kissed her. 

Lisa convinced her to take Dave out for a spin and they found themselves pushing the old car up the hill and driving all the way to London. They called the choir to tell them that they were still coming and to reassure Frankie that her mother hadn’t just runran off. Lisa’s right hand was steady on the wheel and her left warm in Kate’s. 

Her eyes were bright and the road was long and for the first time in months, in years, Kate felt a little lighter, a little warmer, and as music blared through the car, a lot less emptier. 

“I love you,” the words tumbled out as they reached the outskirts of London. Kate stared Lisa in the eye. Lisa paused. 

“Kate—you’re feeling a lot of things—” 

Kate was sure. So sure. The surest she had felt about anything in her life. 

“No, I love you, Lisa,” she said firmly. Lisa cupped her face. 

“Red, I—” 

Kate just looked at her, held her hand. “You don’t need to say it back.”

Lisa closed her eyes and shook her head. 

“I do, it’s just—” 

Another car beeped them from behind and they both jumped. 

But Kate loved Lisa and that was enough. 

The choir was magnificent. Lisa was magnificent. Kate sang her line loudly and proudly and wished that Richard was in the audience, wished that he was listening in Afghanistan, wished that Jamie was here, wished that she was still pregnant. 

But Lisa held her hand afterwards and everything was okay, if only for a second. They received a standing ovation and Kate was beaming but most importantly, Lisa was holding her hand and Lisa was beside her and she still had Lisa even if she’d lost everyone else. 

“I love you,” she whispered Kate’s ear. Kate squeezed her hand. 

The lights were bright and the sky was clear and Kate Barkley loved Lisa Lawson and Lisa Lawson loved Kate Barkley. 

She wondered if Richard and Jamie would be proud of her. Wondered if they were happy. Hoped that soon, she could be happy again too. 

She kissed Lisa carefully, gently, softly on the way back to Flitcroft. There was so much still in the air. So much unknown. But Lisa was with her and Lisa was kissing her back and Lisa loved her, and Kate knew, for the first time in a very, very long one, that everything was going to be okay. 

**FIN.**

> _ “Love isn’t something you have to deserve.”  _ —Jennifer Echols _ , Such a Rush  _

**Author's Note:**

> feel free to yell at me in the comments ;) 
> 
> on another note, i hope you enjoyed this rollercoaster of a ride and i had the best time writing it. let me know what you thought and i'm always down for prompts about these two lesbians. <33

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [pit of the soul](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27591937) by [atlantisairlock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/atlantisairlock/pseuds/atlantisairlock)




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